Caught
by aikaterini
Summary: Someone has been stealing from Mozenrath. He sets a trap and finds more than what he expected. One-shot. Mozenrath/Sadira


Disclaimer: "Aladdin the Animated Series" is property of Disney.

"Caught"

 _Sorry, I'll bring this back as soon as I can - thank you!_

Mozenrath stared down at the parchment with bemusement. For a month now, someone – of great magical power, for his alarms always lit up wildly whenever this thief invaded his kingdom – had been 'borrowing' his scrolls and potions. Of course, it was really stealing, but since the thief always remembered to return them after a week or so, he supposed that technically it was borrowing.

Mozenrath let out a snort. Whatever it was, someone had been intruding, taking his supplies without his permission, and even had the audacity to leave an apology note each time. He could not abide this.

He leaned back on his throne. Well, whoever it was, they had considerable ingenuity. Not even the street rat and his pathetic friends could sneak in undetected. Yes, ingenuity…and power. His gauntlet clenched into a fist. He'd take great pleasure in stripping the thief of his magic.

His eel familiar glided over to him. "Master have trap ready?"

"Of course," he snapped. Xerxes recoiled and Mozenrath felt a slight pang of remorse. It wasn't Xerxes' fault that his wards were so shamefully lax. Or that two weeks ago, he'd failed to conquer Agrabah _again_ , thanks to that meddlesome street rat.

He reached out a hand – his human hand – and stroked Xerxes' head. "Yes, Xerxes, everything is set. All we have to do is wait."

Xerxes slackened in relief and then a creak echoed through the palace. Xerxes began to hiss with excitement, but Mozenrath put a finger to his lips.

Soft footsteps tapped up the staircase to his library. Mozenrath heard a knob pulled and he grinned. There was a sharp shriek and in a puff of blue smoke, a figure was dumped onto the ground in front of him.

The first glimpse that Mozenrath caught of his captive was a large mass of bushy brown hair. The thief staggered up and Mozenrath could see that his prisoner was a girl. She looked to be around his age, was dressed in peasant rags, and her feet were bare. His lip curled.

Her head swung up and he was caught by the striking blue of her eyes.

She blinked, staring at him. Her eyes shifted to Xerxes, who was floating in a circle around his master's head, and the corners of her mouth quirked up.

"So." She brushed herself off and folded her arms over her chest. " _You're_ Mozenrath."

Whatever reaction he'd expected, it wasn't this. He'd expected her to quiver in terror or plead with him for her life. He hadn't expected her to cock her head and stare at him appraisingly, like he was a fine rug being sold at market.

Deciding to humor her, Mozenrath swept into a courtly bow. "Ruler of the Black Sands. And you are...?"

"Sadira," she said. She offered him no bow in return. "I have to say, you're not what I expected."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He advanced towards her, his gauntlet thrumming with power. "And just what did you expect?"

She frowned. "I don't know. Aladdin and Jasmine told me that you were young –"

He paused. She was a friend of the street rat? His lips curved into a smirk. _Perfect._

"– _way_ young to be ruler of an entire kingdom." She arched her eyebrows. "And you _are_ skinny and in desperate need of more sun."

His smirk froze. "What?"

"But your hair's nice." Sadira tilted her head. "Well, from what I can see of it anyway."

Mozenrath exchanged a glance with Xerxes, who looked just as bewildered as he felt. Mozenrath cleared his throat. "So –"

"Yeah, sorry about your stuff." Sadira shifted awkwardly. "Did you get my notes?"

"Yes."

"I mean, I just wanted to borrow them for a bit, but I figured that you'd freak out if you saw that they were missing -"

"How did you enter my library? My palace? My kingdom is crawling with mamluks."

She waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, them? They were creepy at first, but once I saw how easy it was to knock them over –"

"And my wards?"

She smiled smugly. "Oh, I've been breaking in and out of things for a _long_ time, pretty boy."

Her smile unnerved him and he said coldly, "My name is Mozenrath." He brandished his gauntlet. "Ruler of the –"

"Black Sands, yeah, I know." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, unintentionally baring more of her neck.

Mozenrath found himself studying the smoothness of her skin and then, with a start, cursed himself for being so easily distracted. Forcing himself to return to the issue at hand, he snarled, "What right did you have to pilfer my scrolls? My potions?"

She kept tucking her hair away, which Mozenrath found vexing. "I just borrowed them. I gave them back to you."

"You had no right to intrude!"

Her eyes glittered. "Says the wizard who invades Agrabah every week. Because," she made air quotes, "'it's there.'"

Mozenrath scowled. "Who told you that? Aladdin?"

"I live there, Mozenrath." Her voice sharpened. "Agrabah is my home. And you want to conquer it for yourself." She stared back at him defiantly. "How is that not stealing? At least I give your potions and scrolls back to you once I'm done using them."

He said nothing and she threw up her hands in exasperation. "What do you even plan to do with Agrabah if you conquer it? Make more creepy zombies? Import black sand?"

Mozenrath frowned. Yes, to increase his army of Mamluks would be nice, but...come to think of it, he hadn't really devised any long-term plans for Agrabah. His intention initially was to add it to his collection as he would a valuable jewel. Once Aladdin and his friends had challenged him, it had become a contest as it were, to see who decided Agrabah's fate. But beyond that...

Seeing that there was still no answer, Sadira huffed, "So, what now, wizard boy?"

He smiled thinly. "I'm glad that you asked." He snapped his fingers.

Chains instantly appeared and locked onto Sadira's wrists and ankles. She yelped and spread out her hands, no doubt to cast a spell. An electric blue charge shot out from the manacles, crackling onto her skin, and she screeched.

"Oh, dear." Mozenrath gave a dramatic sigh while sharing a gloating look with Xerxes. "Did I forget to mention that those chains render magic useless? Silly me."

Sadira slumped to the floor. Strolling over to her, Mozenrath drawled, "You know, my first plan was simply to take your magic and deal with you from there." He cupped her face and her wide blue eyes stared up at him. "However," his fingers caressed her neck, "since you were so good as to inform me of your friendship with the street rat and the princess, I have a better idea."

He leaned in closer, enjoying the deep flush in her cheeks. "I'll take your magic for my own, and then I'll let Aladdin and the others know that their good friend Sadira is in desperate need of help. They'll bring the genie along and I can kill two birds with one stone."

"Heh, heh, two birds." Xerxes hissed, sliding over to Mozenrath's side.

"Yes," Mozenrath twirled a lock of Sadira's hair. "Even though it would be a shame to kill a bird as pretty as you."

Her mouth fell open. "Y-You think I'm pretty?"

"Well, you're not bad-looking...for a peasant." He noted how surprisingly soft her hair was. "Not as exquisite as Princess Jasmine, perhaps, but, well, that's not a fair comparison, is it? Given your station and all. Yes," his fingers tightened in her hair and drew her face closer to his. "I think that we'll have a lot of fun together." He grinned. "What do you think, Sadira?"

"What do I think?" she breathed. She leaned in closer, her lips a hair's breadth from his, and Mozenrath's breath caught. "I think..."

Her lips curved into a sly smile. "...you're _cute_."

With a snap, Sadira broke free of her manacles. Mozenrath scrambled back and his head smacked right into Xerxes. Practically ripping his familiar from the air, he glared and the eel wilted in apology.

The clatter of chains reached his ears and Mozenrath's eyes snapped to Sadira, who'd tossed her manacles to the floor. Rubbing her wrists, she regarded him with no small amount of amusement.

"How did you –" Mozenrath fought to contain his shock, "how did you get out of them? They're supposed to block any form of magic!"

She rolled her eyes. "That's because I didn't use any magic, genius." Upon seeing his blank stare, she scoffed. "I've been picking locks since I was ten."

 _I've been breaking in and out of things for a_ long _time, pretty boy._ Mozenrath's teeth clenched. Fine, it looked like he'd have to do things the hard way.

Throwing Xerxes aside, Mozenrath aimed his gauntlet at her and fired. She jumped away from the blast and threw up her arms. Giant mounds of sand shot into the air.

Mozenrath braced himself against the oncoming onslaught, waiting for the mounds to spill. To his surprise, he saw that the mounds were building on top of each other, stretching higher and higher.

Until five pillars shot forth from the mound and he realized that they were supposed to be fingers. Her mouth set in a determined line, Sadira made a grasping motion towards him with her right hand and the giant hand mimicked her.

Mozenrath conjured a shield and cleaved two of the fingers. Two more soared into the air. Sadira brandished her left hand and another giant hand of sand shot out of the ground.

Mozenrath shook his head in disbelief. Where had a peasant like her learned how to do magic and to control it so well? Had she had a teacher or was she self-taught?

The hands lunged towards him and he leaped aside. He'd question her about that later, once he'd recaptured her. He blasted one of the hands away, but the impact from the magic knocked him straight on his back.

Cursing, he glared at Sadira. It was humiliating enough that he, the heir of Destane, was constantly losing to that miserable street rat. There was no way that he'd let this impertinent girl - who was likely a street rat herself – get the better of him. He leapt to his feet.

The remaining hand disintegrated and spilled to the floor in a carpet of sand. At first, Mozenrath thought that Sadira had surrendered, but the quirk of her eyebrow dispelled that idea. She flicked her wrist and the sand around him congealed into a solid cage around him.

He laughed. "You think this can hold me, little witch?" He teleported outside of the cage and disintegrated it with one blast from his gauntlet. He turned to face Sadira. "Now, Sadira, allow me to –"

Quick as a falcon, Sadira darted over to him. She cupped his cheeks and before he could react, she leaned up and kissed him.

His cheeks burned. He tried to muster an objection, but any words he had were lost in his throat. Her lips were soft and warm, and he found himself slackening, swaying against her. Her hands glided down his chest, over his waist, and his eyes drifted shut.

When her fingers brushed over the gauntlet, his spine stiffened with a jolt. Cursing, he tore his gauntlet out of her grasp and recoiled from her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Xerxes gawping at them and his blush worsened.

Sadira's face was flushed as well, but her smile was sly. "Well..." She touched her lips. "At least I got to steal one thing tonight."

Mozenrath gaped at her, his face and ears feeling impossibly hot. Finally, he choked out, "You little –"

"Aw, come on, what's wrong?" Her hands were on her hips. "You were fine with being frisky when you thought I was chained up."

Mozenrath's forehead creased. "I-I..."

"Or is it because you were in control, then? Yeah, I guess it's easier to pretend to be suave and flirty when the girl doesn't answer back." She clicked her tongue. "You've never had a girlfriend before, have you?"

His blood boiled. "Guards!"

His mamluks rushed into the hall and he pointed at Sadira. "Seize her!"

They brandished their swords and surrounded her. She surveyed them calmly, and then her gaze veered back to Mozenrath. "Oh, well. Same time next week, Mozenrath?"

"What?"

She blew him a kiss and he sputtered. Before he could order the mamluks to skewer her like a kebab, her skin began to lighten and shrink in itself.

Mozenrath watched in disbelief as Sadira's body steadily dissolved into a pile of sand. Just as his brain had finished processing the sight, the sand disintegrated into the floor with the speed of an upturned hourglass. In a matter of minutes, she was gone.

The mamluks gawked at the spot where the witch had been. Xerxes hovered around them and turned to Mozenrath uncertainly. "Master?"

Rage simmered from his gauntlet in blue sparks of flame. How could she – that impudent, infuriating…

"Master?"

" _What_?!"

Xerxes motioned with his head at Mozenrath's side. "Sand witch left something."

Mozenrath's eyes flickered down and he saw that Sadira had tucked a note into his sash. How had she done that? And when?

Probably when she'd kissed him. He could feel a blush rise to his cheeks and cursed himself for being so easily taken in.

 _Focus,_ he ordered himself. He ripped out the note and unfolded it.

 _Sorry, I don't mean to keep taking your things, but you don't seem like the sort of person who'd let me borrow them, even if I asked nicely! I just want to practice my magic as much as I can, since I don't really have anyone to teach me._

His eyebrows rose. "Oh, really? She doesn't have a teacher?"

 _Maybe you could give me a hand?_

His eyes widened in incredulity. She was asking him for help? After she'd had the gall to break into his palace and steal from him?

Besides, she seemed skilled enough on her own. What would she want from him?

Her sly smile swam up into his subconscious. _Wouldn't you like to know?_ He scowled, refusing to delve into the implications of the question.

Then again, things had gotten rather dull lately. His lips twisted into a sneer. And wouldn't it vex the street rat to know that one of his friends was asking his sworn enemy for help? Oh, what he wouldn't give to see the look on Aladdin's face.

He lowered the note. "All right. If that's the way you want it, Sadira..." With a sweep of his cloak, he headed to the library. "Then let the games begin."


End file.
